Twisted Ties of Love

A car had pulled up outside at some point, its doors swinging open to disgorge its passengers. First out was Wendy, followed by Bunny, who was bending over to assist Casey from the vehicle. The driver also disembarked, wheeling Beck, who was seated in a wheelchair.This is property © of NôvelDrama.Org.

The entire Dempsey family had arrived, four of them in total, come to fetch Izabella and take her back home.

For a moment, Izabella thought she was hallucinating. Her eyes reddened, a prickling sensation threatening to spill over. She fought the urge to rub them, fearing that any such movement would make the figures before her vanish into thin air.

Instead, she pinched the back of her hand - a sharp pain confirming she wasn't ensnared in a dream.

Reality snapped back, and the warmth that had begun to swell in her heart was swiftly replaced by a rising tide of fear. Why were the Dempseys here? Had Brett coerced them with something? Or had they struck some sort of deal to appear here? Were there deceits, traps hidden within their arrival?

In those fleeting seconds, Izabella's mind raced through countless possibilities, even considering the explosives she recalled being moved around the site, their boxes marked 'flammable' and kept from prying eyes.

She tried to speak, but her throat constricted as if a sharp stone were lodged within it, preventing even a single word from escaping, making it difficult to breathe.

Her gaze, pale with trepidation, locked with Casey's pallid face and his deep, warm eyes.

A pang shot through her, and memories of calls and messages from Casey flooded back.

Though they were less than thirty feet apart, to Izabella, it felt like miles stretched between them.

Brett, meanwhile, lowered his gaze and let out a hollow chuckle - a sight that to Izabella felt as cold as a blade.

Her wariness only served to deepen the figurative scar across Brett's heart, a wound that seemed to bleed more freely with each of her suspicious glances. His recent bouts of coughing had begun to bring up blood.

Raising his hand, Brett placed his icy palm on Izabella's head, marking their first touch of tenderness in days.

Izabella's guard fell away instantly, the soft warmth on her forehead calming her. She watched Brett's lips part, his voice hoarse as he uttered a few words.

"This is my final gift to you. I give you freedom." He lowered his hand and gave her a gentle push.

Stumbling forward, Izabella looked ahead, then back at Brett in a mix of confusion and disbelief.

"Izabella, keep moving forward, don't look back," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, afraid that if she turned, he would be unable to let her go.

"Bella," called Casey from across the room.

Her movements finally sprung to life, her mind a whirl of chaos. Barefoot, she didn't feel the cold carpet beneath her as she moved forward, the hem of her gown trailing behind her, sparkling like stars in the night sky.

Brett watched from behind, his eyes reddening as he let go of her. Pushing away the person he loved felt like ripping his heart in two.

The residual warmth of her hair lingered on his fingertips as if he had briefly touched his own "sun" before returning her to the sky where she belonged.

He owed Izabella a grand wedding, a perfect ring, a bridal gown, two children, a lifetime of togetherness, and devotion. And now, someone else was providing these to her.

His heart might have been reluctant, but it settled into willing surrender.

"Izabella, I love you," Brett murmured, his voice carried away by the night breeze into Izabella's ear.

Regrets and deep love filled his thoughts of her, and even knowing they would no longer be entwined, he couldn't stop himself from wanting to tell her over and over just how much he cared for her. "Izabella." he called out her name, wanting her to look back, yet also not wanting her to.

Fearing that if she did, he would never be able to let her go.

But Izabella did as he had said; she didn't turn back and continued her determined stride towards Casey.

With a boom, fireworks lit up the Christmas Eve sky, their brilliance rivaling the New Year's display.

So this was the taste of loss, Brett

thought as he watched Izabella and Casey embrace. His chest felt hollow, as if his ribs had been extracted. He stumbled, seeking support, one hand clenched, the other covering his chest as he coughed, the sound teari

through

him, blood staining his dark suit.

Looking up at the fireworks, Brett let his tears fall, the salty bitterness overwhelming his senses. He choked on his words, his voice rough May you have a joyful marriage, grow old together, and stay committed to devotion."

Closing his eyes against the pain, Brett lamented the cruel twist of fate. In his final moments, he had lost his true love, delivering her into the arms of another man.

He remembered a conversation in a café, Bunny's words to him resonating now more than ever.

"Brett," Bunny had said, "the

Windham family's coldness can

change. Material wealth is nothing

compared to the value of a person. I

would trade all of the Dempsey

fortune for Izabella's return. Blease,

give her back to us."